


I Still Haven't Thought Of Anything

by Daxii



Series: Thinking Escapes Me [2]
Category: Free!
Genre: After care, Age Difference, Blow Jobs, Breakfast in Bed, Business AU, Cuddling, Daddy Kink, Haru takes it lying down, I still suck at titles, M/M, More Cuddling, goddamn it Kisumi, handjobs, rebellious kitchen equipment, the grapes make a reappearance, what does Haru keep in his sock drawer?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-12
Updated: 2015-02-23
Packaged: 2018-03-12 01:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 15,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3338534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daxii/pseuds/Daxii
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to I'll Think Of Something Later (office AU inspired by How I Handle Business) which pretty much NEEDS to be read first as this picks up in the final few paragraphs of that. </p><p>Haru and Sousuke get to know each other better.<br/>Haru needs to figure out what the hell Sousuke means.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

I don’t know how long I spend in this perfectly peaceful state, but it’s definitely not long enough. While I’m conscious, Sousuke’s large hands, roughed a little with age, rub over my body in aimless patterns, warming everything under them until I’m tingling with cold wherever he isn’t touching. He brings his mouth towards mine, a fat, juicy grape held between his teeth and nudges my lips apart with it until I accept it from him, and then covers my lips in light little kisses when I’ve finished eating it.

When I’ve had enough of them, I roll my face into the crook of his neck so he can’t deliver any more and he wraps both arms tight over my back, warming all the aches that are starting to take hold.

I’m semi-aware of him shuffling us around and coaxing me under the quilt, and I immediately make use of his chest as a pillow. He still works out, it’s obvious, he’s covered in years of perfect muscle, and his broad chest and shoulders are considerably bulky, but he’s not bulging, it’s still soft enough to sink into.

He might whisper something, or it might just be the natural rumble of his chest I can hear, but he definitely chuckles a little and I scold him for jostling me by trying to bite on his pec, but ultimately just end up leaving a little hicky. I definitely hear him call me ‘cheeky’ again, but he returns to stroking me all over anyway.

At some point I notice I’m curled more into the plush duvet than to him, but I can still feel his presence there. Big and warm, probably watching me pass out with some silly smirk of affection plastered on his face.

When I regain total consciousness, I’m distinctly alone, and it takes my senses a minute to adjust, like I’ve been asleep for days, even though according to the clock it’s only been a couple of hours.

There’s the unmistakable clanking, clattering sound of a cast iron pan making its escape and scuttling along a tiled floor, and I come to the conclusion that that’s what’s woken me up.

Sitting up, I find clean underwear and pyjamas (probably more of Rin’s) sitting on the other pillow. Experimentally, I test my limbs and tentatively slide out of bed. There’s an aching, hollow feeling between my legs, but I suppose I shouldn’t have expected anything less.

 

“And _you!_ ” Sousuke rounds on the toaster with unbridled hatred. “Don’t you even fucking _start!_ ”

I stand in the kitchen doorway, observing his rant. He throws two slices of blackened bread in the bin and while he’s facing away I cross the room and lean against the counter, where he’s bound to look when he turns back.

“Abusing your appliances?” I ask, feeling a lilt in my voice that isn’t usually there.

Sousuke almost drops the fresh slices of bread he’s just grabbed when he stops dead in his tracks and sees me. I can’t help but smirk.

“Hello,” he coughs out, turning red and sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, like he’s just lost twenty years of maturity. It only takes a second for him to bounce back though, and he tosses the bread onto the cutting board, swaggering over in a way he’s probably not aware of, just his natural gait with years of learning to be imposing, to abuse his stature.

“Hi,” my voice fails me, coming out quiet and soft, like a squeak.

He’s standing right in front of me, tilting his head down with a sappy smile, sort of patronising with how awed he looks. His hands twitch at his sides, like he’s going to reach out, and as the silence draws on he looks increasingly nervous, and his hands still. It’s like, even after what we’ve just done, he’s waiting for permission to touch me.

I sigh and bring my arms around his neck, and that gets him going, big, warm hands pushing the bottom of the baggy tank top aside and running across my stomach and around to my back, stooping to rest his forehead against mine.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, definitely embarrassed.

“You know… pretty much how I expected to,” I shrug. It’s a weird mix of soreness and emptiness sitting right next to this feeling of absolute _yes_ that my body doesn’t really know how to process.

“Good?” he presses, apparently disliking how vague my answer was.

“Good,” I assure, and he comes down to kiss me. Nothing hot or heated, just caring and pleased.

“I was going to make you some supper.”

Well at least he wasn’t just trying to start a fight with the poor toaster.

“Having trouble?”

“Cooking’s not… _exactly_ my forte… and I’m a bit…” I’m starting to wonder who the inexperienced one is, he’s acting so awkward and tentative, “ _distracted_.”

“That’s not good for productivity in the long run,” I playfully scold, surprised how easy the words come, how easy it is to open up to him.

But I suppose I’ve _already_ been opened up to him. There’s nothing left to hide, now.

“I’ll do it,” I offer, and he looks rightfully offended at being dismissed. “You can do the toast… you know, if you think the two of you can get along.”

“Cheeky,” but he kisses me again and we both drop our holds to get to work.

I forage his cupboards and find a hash of ingredients, nothing really catered to any particular _recipe_ , so we end up having noodles with slices of spicy sausage and a creamy tomato sauce, served on top of the toast he seemed so desperate to feed me. He’d probably grumble something about _carbs_ if I were to ask why. I dread to think what he intended to rustle up to serve it with.

“Full of little talents, aren’t you?” he coos, loading the dishwasher.

Why a single man needs a dishwasher, I’ll never know.

I hum in response. Talking would be too much effort. And I’m not really sure what to say anyway. I move up behind him and press my face in between his shoulder blades, lightly clutching at the shirt on the sides of his waist. He ignores me, just for a moment, while he wipes the counter top down, like there’s nothing more natural than me clinging to his back. He turns around and leans back, gathering me into a hug that brings me up onto my tiptoes so I can snuggle my face into his neck, and sways us just a little.

“Do you want to go and watch TV or a movie or something before bed?” it’s so apparent that I’m staying the night neither one of us has even bothered to question it. “Anything you want.”

“Just a bath.”

He smiles at that, like it’s the most endearing thing he’s ever heard, “Absolutely.”

I’m left to lean against the bathroom wall while Sousuke goes about filling the bath, setting some towels on the side, even pouring some soothing salts into the water, which is an appreciated little touch. It’s a bit… weird though. This being _waited_ upon. He’s being so gentle and caring it sort of makes me suspicious he’s apologising for something.

“Let me help?” he asks, stepping forwards.

Apparently _help_ entails peeling me out of my borrowed pyjamas and subconsciously licking his lips like I’m something to eat. Though if his little kinks are anything to go by, I probably _am_. I sink into the warm water and close my eyes, ignoring him as much as I can while he sits on the closed toilet seat, watching me. The water feels amazing, kissing away aches and pains I hadn’t even realised were fully there yet. I lose myself in relaxation when a real kiss drags me out of it.

“Look like you’re falling asleep there,” Sousuke says, voice low and soft.

I can’t muster up words, just drape my arms around his neck in a repeat from last night, probably soaking him through, and he just chuckles, rumbly and warm against my ear.

“Alright then.”

For a moment, I don’t know what he’s talking about, but the next I’m being dragged out of the bath and brought tight to his chest. He manages to hold me up with one arm and grab a towel with the other, probably his injured shoulder.

“What are you doing?” I ask, when he sits me on top of his dresser and begins to dry me off, gentle little pats and circles rubbed with the towel, like anything more would break me.

He falters then, something flashing across his face. “Just… uh, looking after you. Do want me to stop.”

I shake my head. It’s nice, being fawned over. He chuckles and pulls me back down into his arms, but sets my feet back on the ground.

I tug at his top. These clothes need to go. He laughs at me.

“Just because _you’re_ up for a second round doesn’t mean _I_ am,” he takes hold of my hardening cock and strokes it to full attention, despite what he’s just said.

“Sorry, it’s just…” I babble, I can’t help it, it’s just because Sousuke’s _right there._ “It’s all your fault,” I accuse, crossing my arms.

“So excitable,” he whispers, running his thumb over my slit.

“Don’t be mean,” I whine.

“Then stop being so tempting,” he licks against my ear.

“Pervert.”

He sits on the bed, lying out comfortably, and pats the space beside him. I ignore it, crawling into his lap instead and straddling him with my knees. It’s a bit painful, spreading my legs and stretching my hole, but I can deal with it.

“Ah ah ah, behave, little one,” he coos.

“I’m not a baby,” I pout, because that’s what he’s doing with all this ‘looking after’ stuff.

“Hmm, no,” he agrees, looking thoughtful as he strokes down my back. “But you _are_ , compared to me, anyway.”

“You’re not old,” he’s _mature_ , _responsible_ , and I like that. He’s so confident and commanding and I _need_ it.

He laughs again. “Oh, Haru, with your little baby face I’m sure some people would consider _arresting_ me just for looking at you the way I do.”

“Are you into it, then?” I ask, because he’s not really explained this part yet. “The whole… age thing?”

He pauses, looking me over, eyes trailing down to my straining cock and he smirks. “I’m not… against it,” he decides. “But,” his eyes flicker up, looking steadily at my face, “it still depends on how far you want to take this.”

He keeps saying things like that and _I don’t know what he means_.

He must catch my confusion, because next he’s cupping my cheek, “You don’t have to decide anything yet, we’re still getting to know each other.”

I hum a non-response, chewing my lip, suddenly feeling exposed and a bit ridiculous, throwing my naked self into his lap like an attention seeking child. I move off him to the side and slide under the quilt. He makes no move to stop me, just watches, still with this soft little smile he can’t seem to control.

“Are you going back to sleep?” he asks.

“Just resting,” I answer.

“Do you mind if I put the TV on?”

I frown at him. “It’s your house.”

“Let me know if it’s keeping you up, alright?” he looks like he’s going to reach out again, but ultimately reaches right over me to grab the controllers.

It’s a bit weird, just lying here next to him with him largely ignoring me, chuckling occasionally at the sitcom he’s watching. For whatever reason, I’d expected him to be closer, holding me, carrying on with his relentless affection. After a while of just doing _nothing_ , I roll over and flop my arm over him.

His whole body tenses and I retreat, apparently having made a mistake. I can feel him looking at me and shut my eyes.

“Haru…” I blink up at him, feeling like an idiot. “Do you want to cuddle?”

Yes, if that’s the apparent _name_ that shit has to have, but not if he’s going to make it so embarrassing. The silence is starting to become painful, even though it’s all my fault for just lying here, not moving or responding.

Slowly, Sousuke slides under the covers and sits up next to me, sliding his nearest arm down my shoulders. He just sort of hovers it there, just touching, and I get the hint that I’m supposed to make up the space between us. So I do, moving over as quickly as possible and nestling into his stomach and throwing my arm back over him. I feel him chuckle and he brings his other arm around me and holds tighter with them both.

“Never took you for a cuddler,” he muses, and starts to trace little patterns on the back of my neck.

He’s right, really. I’ve never been the most _affectionate_ of people, much to the dismay of the last and only person who’d tried to date me.

“Just want to,” I mutter, a little defensively, and close my eyes.

“Don’t be embarrassed. It’s cute.”

It’s most definitely _not_ cute.

“ _You’re_ cute,” he continues, and it’s only getting worse. He ploughs on. “So pretty, and soft, and _delicate_.”

“I’m _not_ delicate.”

“And _sensitive_ ,” he teases, and scoots down a bit, and I think he’s just doing it to get closer, but then his hand slides around my front and grabs my cock. It takes just a few seconds of attention before I’m ready and weeping for him. “ _Definitely_ sensitive.”

He lets go. “Don’t _tease_ ,” I whine. “Yamaza –”

 “Oh, Haru, honey,” he interrupts, flinging out another pet name like it’s nothing. “I had my _tongue_ in your _ass_ not five hours ago. I think we’re a bit past the point of pleasantries,” he laughs.

Perhaps he has a point.

I try to continue my rant, but he quickly takes hold of my cock again and all I can do is moan.

“I thought you said you weren’t up for anything else?”

“Mm, guess I’ll have to work on my stamina if I’m going to have you around,” he tries to joke, but mostly sounds frustrated with himself. “Do you want me to get you off before bed?”

As if that’s even a question.

He lies down in bed completely and folds the quilt back a bit, so our chests are exposed. He’s still very overdressed.

“Come here, then,” he pats his chest, so I move my head to it. “No, silly,” he coos, “Sit up here. I’ll suck you off.”

I wish he wouldn’t just say it like that.

“Oh, to be young,” he praises when I’ve seated myself on him, boner smacking him a little in the face as I shift. “I’ve not had this reaction in a _while_.”

He licks up the beads already leaking from my head, as if trying to keep me occupied while he adjusts my position to where he can properly angle himself to swallow me down.

And when he does, it brings a whole new meaning to the phrase _‘swallow me down_ ’, because down doesn’t even cut it. I’m as far in his face as he was in my ass earlier. It’s all I can do not to move at risk of suffocating him, so I tense completely and cling onto the headboard to try and hold my weight up.

He pulls back, slowly, and my cock falls out of his mouth and I moan, leaning forwards and biting onto the wood of the headboard.

“You have to help, you know,” Sousuke says, giving my ass cheek a little pat as if to tell me off.

“H-how?” I feel like an idiot, but this is _not_ the sort of blow job I’m used to.

“Fuck my mouth,” he demands, gently, but tinges pink a little like he’s just become aware of the far too casual way he’s saying these things.

He takes me back in before I can say anything, and I start off slowly moving my hips in and out, but whatever his tongue is doing to the underside of my head each time I pull out is driving me mad. I bite down on the headboard, wanting to make this last. He pulls off again, giving my but another disciplinary spank.

“You don’t have to hold back.”

“But I don’t want it to end!” I almost sob at the lack of contact, and he kisses my tip like he knows, licking up the slit again.

“You taste great, by the way,” I groan. “That’s a compliment, sweetie. But come on, relax. Just enjoy it. We can work on your stamina while we’re working on mine, alright?”

I don’t really have an argument, so when he opens his mouth up invitingly I just push back in, groaning as each inch slides over his hot tongue.

“Where should I cum?” I manage to ask between pants.

“In my mouth, silly,” his words vibrate around my cock. “I’ve already eaten your cum, after all.”

“Should I… warn you?”

“I’ll know,” he assures, and closes his mouth, sucking and managing to lick even though I’m all the way down his throat as I move in and out, getting a little bit braver with his encouraging little moans and squeezes of my ass.

His fingers don’t trail even _close_ to my hole, and I can’t decide if I appreciate that or not, because it’s definitely tender. But he probably knows this. It’s not like _he_ hasn’t done all of this before, after all.

I feel myself getting closer, and he hums around me, and it’s just like he said, he _knows_ , and somehow that turns me on even more until I’m bucking wildly into him, a little voice absently pleading in the back of my bed not to _hurt him_ , but he just sucks and swallows harder, matching my pace as best he can. I don’t know _how_ he’s so in-tune with my body, but right as the warmth runs up from my balls, he pulls back so just my head is on his tongue and catches everything I release, swallowing and tasting it in a way that’s a little bit perverted but _so fucking sexy_ at the same time.

When he pulls my pathetic, limp, twitching body down into his lap and sits up to hold me, the only thing I can do is capture him in a kiss, before I can even bring my arms around him, panting desperately into his mouth. He grins when I collapse back, catching my head and bringing me to lean my forehead against his to support me, keep me upright. His face is so full of pride and just _fascination_ that I have to look away, it’s too much. I snuggle into the crook of his neck, on his good shoulder, and he kisses down the side of my neck and along my collar.

“Get naked,” I groan, muffled by his neck, and then wake up a little bit and decide not to give him a choice in the matter by pulling his top over his head before he’s even finished laughing at me.

“ _Relax_ ,” he purrs. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I can _see that_ ,” I growl. “Move, so I can take your pants off.”

He’s laughing, laughing so hard that he becomes completely pliable for me to push him onto his back and tug on his pants to work them down. He helps a little bit, pushing his hips up just an inch so I can get them around his solid backside.

“Why are you _laughing?!_ ” I demand, crawling back into his lap, wrapping my legs around his waist. He’s hard and I rub against him a little bit. “Thought you said you couldn’t go again,” I pout.

“Well if you make me cum _now_ I _definitely_ won’t be able to do anything with you tomorrow.”

…That changes things a bit.

I roll my head against his shoulder in defeat. He’s won, and he laughs again because he knows it. “How can you _not_ , though?”

“Comes with experience,” he says, a bit lamely. “Sorry,” he adds.

“Don’t _apologise_ ,” I snarl. Why would he _apologise_ for the best blow job I’ve ever had?

“I don’t want you to be disappointed,” he rubs my hip. “It’s not that I don’t _want_ to, not by a long shot.”

“It’s fine… I’m just being greedy.”

“I like greedy,” he kisses my cheek and pushes me to the side. “Now I’m gonna go get ready for bed, alright?” he stands up and pumps his cock a few times, probably just because it feels good, “and _you_ , little minx, are going to calm down. You’ve had a long day, and we’ve _both_ had a long week. We can spend the entire day in bed tomorrow, if you want.”

I like it when he does this. When he tells me what to do so I know where I stand. While he’s away in the bathroom, exhaustion takes over me as my last wave of orgasm seeps its way into my every muscle.

“Doesn’t take you long to drop off, does it?” Sousuke says softly.

I hadn’t even heard him come back into the room, let alone, climb into bed. He’s stroking my hair, and I roll over to face him, eyes attempting to flutter open.

“Sorry, were you asleep?”

“Mm, just a bit,” I can’t keep my eyes open.

“Do you want to cuddle?”

“Mm, just a bit,” I repeat.

He chuckles softly, “Did you even hear me?”

“Shut up,” I shuffle over and lean into him. Lying on his back, he tucks me up under his arm.

“Good night, Haruka.”

 

I wake up on my other side, apparently having rolled over, or _been_ rolled over, at some point in my sleep. Sousuke spoons into me, but sort of curled over, with his head above mine, chin digging a little into my scalp. My head is on his arm as a pillow, and his other arm is wrapped around me, right around my front and holding onto my shoulder. There’s not a single gap between my back and his chest, and it’s sort of tacky from a little sweating in the night.

And it’s absolutely _blissful_.

He snorts a little, just barely snoring with ragged breath. I could stay here forever, listening to it. It feels a bit strange, to be so enchanted by what’s really a rather unattractive noise. I know it would definitely be annoying if I was trying to sleep. It was certainly a problem the night before when he was lying on his back.

“Sou?” I quietly ask the air, testing how light a sleeper he is. There’s not even a break in the rhythm of his breathing. “Sousuke?” I ask again a little louder. Still nothing. I start to slowly slide away from him, inching along his arm, and the one around me just follows like it’s glued. When I’m finally just one shuffle away from breaking free, he gathers me in both arms and tugs me back, tight to his chest.

“Making an escape?” he asks, voice rough and tired, but his arms are still so strong despite him being barely conscious.

“Gotta pee,” I say simply, because there’s no point beating around the bush here.

“Go on then, cutie,” I can _hear_ the amusement in his voice. “Wake me up when you get back.”

He releases me and falls onto his front as soon as I’m out of bed with a grumbling moan. I go and do my business, and wash my hands. And my face. And clean my teeth. And wash my arms. And my neck – and then give it up as a waste of time and hop in the shower, revelling in Sousuke’s apparent preference for almost bruising water pressure. I towel off thoroughly, aware of where I’ll be going back to, even doing a good job of my hair, for Sousuke’s sake, and tiptoe back along the landing.

Sousuke is still on his front, breathing deeply, like he’s actually succumbed back into a coma while I’ve been away. I sit next to him, and his head turns towards me, eyes slit open, regaining his senses.

“Thought you were just going for a pee?” he asks, with a little amused smile.

“Got distracted.”

“That’s not good for –” _oh, don’t even_. I interrupt him by kissing him quiet. He’s a bit surprised, and his lips are tired and a bit slow to respond, which is cute. The morning breath is –

He suddenly wakes up a bit, flicking his tongue into my mouth.

– bearable.

With a little moan, he pulls away and stretches out, and then rolls onto his back so he can pull his arms across his chest, probably to stretch out his shoulder. He scoots over a bit and surprises me by putting his head in my lap. It’s nice though, like we’ve switched roles a bit from last night, and I card my fingers through his scruffy hair.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, blinking more awake.

“Um…” well _about_ that…

“Sore? I thought you would be,” he smiles. “Sorry about that.”

I shake my head. There’s really _nothing_ to be sorry for.

“What about you? You look like shit,” the words fall out of my mouth before I can clamp down on them.

He only looks amused though, like I’m being _‘cute’_ , or something. “I’m just old, actually. Need coffee. You wear me out.”

“I can get you coffee,” another thing that just comes tumbling down from my brain.

“Be my guest, baby. Or my waiter. You know, whichever of those fits…” he’s doing it again with the pet names and he trails off, like he’s having a bit of trouble controlling his own words, too.

I slink away again, to the kitchen this time and route around for his coffee supplies before the red, shiny contraption on the opposite counter waves me over. Sousuke’s really into his coffee, apparently. I choose a little packet with “morning blend” written on it and aim at what look to be the right buttons. Coffee happens, so I think I got it right.

I make him toast too. It just feels like the right thing to do, and like he’d probably do it for me if we switched places. I take the mug and the plate back upstairs, and Sousuke’s sat up in bed with the telly on low, watching the news. The little mint packet is still sitting on his bedside table where he hasn’t put it away yet, so kissing is probably on the list of things to do.

He smiles at me, rubbing my back while I set his mug on the side and pass him his plate, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed. But if yesterday’s debacles are anything to go by, he probably doesn’t get this too often. It’s a bit of a wonder he’s even gotten to this age, especially looking just as _good_ as he _does_ , considering what his diet must be like according to the contents of his fridge. It reminds me a little bit of –

“Toast?” Sousuke grins and takes the plate, looking totally flattered and pulling that awed expression again when he meets my eye and tucks a finger under my chin to pull me in for a kiss.

"Carbs," or something.

 – now’s probably not the best time to think about _him_.


	2. Chapter 2

He eats happily, and I get the impression he’s the kind of guy who’s _always_ happy to accept food. A bit of a bottomless stomach. Sort of like someone else I know… I sit by him, just on the edge of the bed, legs dangling, and he has one arm just lying out across my lap, sort of like I’m in the way but also like I’m not allowed to move from this spot – which I don’t mind, to be honest. It’s nice, this. It’s right up my street, just a quiet companionship that doesn’t _need_ to be filled with incessant, mindless chatter, and Sousuke’s probably too old for any of that anyway.

“Wow,” Sousuke says, a bit absently around the final swallow of his toast. I cast my eyes over to him in acknowledgement, because there’s obvious more to say. That’s a bit of an overreaction for _toast_. “This is the longest I’ve seen you naked and soft, you know,” he teases. “You’re not getting bored of me already, are you?”

“Well you’re being a bit boring, just eating toast,” I quip flatly. All it earns me is a poke.

“Mm,” he sighs, obviously still sleepy, and his eyes slide over to the clock. “You hungry yet?”

“Eh…” I consider it. Eating would probably be a good thing. “Sure,” I decide.

“Would you like to go out for lunch?”

I suppress a slight groan. “What happened to staying in bed all day?”

He laughs just lightly, soft eyes full of endearment and he strokes my back again. “Let me treat you.”

_Why, though?_

That feels a bit… I don’t know. I’m not sure what to make of it.

“Know anywhere nice open on Sundays?” he continues, hooking his finger under my chin and bringing me to look at him.

I shrug, and he frowns a bit and holds my arms, pulling me up and into his lap. This is becoming a recurring thing, he must get something out of having me here, getting to hold on and run his hands everywhere, my weight barely making an impression on his thighs, but it’s not feeling so much _sweet_ as it is _possessive_.

I sink in a bit, leaning a little into him, and he ducks his head briefly to kiss at my cheek, but then suddenly pulls away like it was accidental.

Certainly reminded me of the kissing I thought he was planning, though. With him suddenly getting so shy, well…

I turn my head and nudge towards his cheek, returning the kiss a few extra shades on the side of chaste for what I’d been going for. His cheek is stubbly, scratchy, but it tingles on my lips all the same. I brush over his other cheek with my fingers, and he smirks.

“This’ll happen to you too, you know, your pretty, little baby face won’t stay like that forever,” he mirrors my movements, cupping my jaw and bringing his lips down much more confidently, kissing along from my ear, down to my chin, and up to my other ear. “How long do you go between shaves?”

“Like a week,” I grumble, because it’s a bit humiliating considering my best friend seems to break out in a full beard overnight.

“Well maybe one day I’ll be giving you a shaving lesson,” he teases.

“I already shave for swimming,” I shrug.

He frowns a little, but then breaks out into a grin. “Yes, I’d _noticed_ that,” he beams and runs a hand to my slightly stubbled crotch. “That is _gorgeous_.”

“Your tastes are weird,” I mumble. “Pervert.”

He chuckles and finally, _fucking **finally**_ , takes me into a deep kiss, minty and a little bit wet and absolutely _filthy_ when he does a _thing_ with his tongue over the roof of my mouth and I shudder and moan entirely involuntarily into his mouth.

He rolls me onto my back, taking full control as he straddles me, keeping his weight off and hunkering over me back into the kiss. His hand slides down between our bodies and finds my cock, hard for him already, and strokes a few times, then lets up and I try not to whimper at the loss.

“I’d fuck you again, if I thought you could handle it,” he whispers into my ear and goes to move his finger around my hole. I wince. “But I don’t want to hurt you,” _well, thanks_ , “so you’ll just have to make do with my hands for now, ok?”

He’s so _obviously_ hinting at the promise of more to come later, that this is going to become a regular thing, a _habit_ of ours, part of a weekend routine that my insides do a little flip in anticipation and I force the excitement away from my face. He doesn’t need to know what he’s doing to me, he just needs to do it.

I nod and he takes hold again, but this time he’s holding his own hard cock there too, hot and sticky and I feel like it’s completely dwarfing mine, rubbing against it in his hand as he begins to jerk us both.

His pace is slow, steady, and he thrusts in and out while he pumps with the utmost purpose, pulling back from the kiss and watching my face with something I can’t read, so I just close my eyes. Minutes pass and he picks up the pace with a rougher grip, and I can feel myself bubbling up already. He does that thing again, the thing where he just _knows_.

“Ah, ah, ah, remember what we said about _stamina_ ,” Sousuke teases.

“Well what about _your_ stamina,” I snap back, and I don’t mean to be overly expectant or anything, but I’d been sorting hoping to get him off with something more exciting than a hand job.

He flashes a grin, “Oh, Haru, baby, we have all day, remember?” and comes in to kiss at me again.

So this is just what? The first course?

I can probably go with that.

He continues to stroke at what’s apparently the _perfect_ pace for him, according to the muted grunts into my mouth and the thin film of sweat covering him, but for me it’s just _torture_. Too slow and a bit too soft, especially when I thought he liked it rougher, and just altogether _not enough_ and he _knows_ it.

“Sousuke –” I cough out, quiet and a little bit strangled when he tightens his hold right at that moment.

“Yes, baby?” he coos into my neck, sandwiched by sloppy kisses around each word.

It’s something he does with the pet name. Rolling it off his tongue and just into my head, flicking every trigger I didn’t even know I had and curling me into a moaning mess.

“ _Please_ ,” I whine.

All he does is chuckle again, rumbling against me. “You don’t get to finish until I do,” he purrs, so sweet and softly despite the words _ripping through me like a knife_.

His breathing starts to catch and his chest sinks into mine, making me gasp as he struggles to keep himself up, but it’s not uncomfortable to have him lying over me. A bit hot and he _is_ heavy, but overall pleasant and just _sexy_ as he picks up the pace.

Right when I’m reaching my peek, he lets up on the thrusts of his cock against mine, taking everything down again and pulling me back from the brink with a half apologetic half amused kiss to my mouth, and then sets off all over again until by the time he’s close to coming there are actual tears running down my face and my teeth marks in his shoulder. He bucks harder, gripping so rough that it’s almost painful and locks onto my lips, sucking in and letting me go over first. It’s such a _relief_ to cum that it almost takes away from the sheer pleasure, and then he twitches against me and reminds me just how hot this is when he coats my cock with his cream.

“Sorry,” he breathes, hitching back up, supported on his forearms. He leans down and kissing over my face and I keep my eyes closed, not wanting to see what he thinks of my state. “But you are just the sexiest little thing when you’re desperate.”

It takes a second for me to process but… “ _You!_ ” I hiss. “You did that on purpose!”

He kisses at my eyes. “Yes,” he admits, innocently cocking his head, “but wasn’t it worth it?”

Maybe. 

“You’re such a good boy,” he says, wrapping his tongue around mine again. “And we made such a mess.”

“Shower?” I suggest hopefully.

He wipes his slimy hand on my stomach, laughing at the grossed out noise that slips from my lips.

“Come on then. And then we’ll get you lunch,” he punctuates with a big kiss on my cheek.

 

After we’re showered and dressed, and spend a few minutes making out against his bedroom wall because we’re both just so _distracted_ by each other’s presence, we end up in his car, and he poses his earlier question again.

“So, where do you know that’s open on a weekend? Anywhere you want, my treat.”

“Um…” even if I _am_ opposed to milking his generosity, there’s nowhere exactly _nice_ I could direct us to…

….

“MgRonald’s, really, Haru?” Sousuke asks, not even bothering to be ashamed of his smirk as he eyes me in his rear view mirror while he reverses into a parking space.

“It’s… uh…”

He chuckles and reaches out to squeeze my thigh. “It’s fine. I don’t really mind.”

“Used to work here,” I mumble.

“Ah, your first job?” I nod. “Sweet.”

We head inside and I’m _so glad_ for the speedy turnover of staff when I realise the questions that could be raised if Sousuke decides to pull out any public displays of affection, but behaves himself. And then I realise, _why wouldn’t he?_ He probably wants embarrassing even less than I do, hanging out in a shitty burger joint with his kid-colleague…

“And what drinks would you like with that?” the cashier asks once we’ve placed our orders.

Sousuke looks to me first. “Mango and pineapple smoothie, please,” I say, and see him smirk out of the corner of my eye.

“I’ll have the same,” and he winks, fucking _winks_ at the woman, and out of her sight rubs his hand along the small of my back. I’m glad he’s paying, because there’s no way I can talk now. Breathing is enough trouble as it is. “I’m gonna go and get straw and things,” he tells me, with another pass of his hand on my back.

I manage to nod and he walks away, leaving me with the cashier who’s smiling away while she waits to put our food on the tray.

“Nice of him, isn’t it,” she starts, and it takes a moment to realise she’s trying to make small talk, “buying you lunch even though you’re all grown up now,” what? “I wish my Dad still did that for me.”

Sousuke returns at that moment with a playful grin. He slides a straw behind each of my ears, smirking away while I look blankly up at him. The woman smiles affectionately, as if this just confirms her idea that he’s a doting father. He shifts behind me, considerate of the small space between counters, and I can feel his heat radiating into my back and it’s all becoming a bit much.

And then he slides his hand into my back pocket and _squeezes_.

 

It’s a test. It _must_ be a test. He’s testing my reaction, looking for that button that makes me blow, wanting to see how far he can push things.

Two can play at this game.

The cashier clears her throat and we both snap into attention, apparently both distracted by what’s going down between us.

“Can you get the drinks, Haru?” Sousuke asks as he steps around me to grab the tray.

I pick them up, catching the woman’s eye and mumble “Sure, Dad.”

The look on his face is priceless.

One-all, Sousuke.

We sit in a booth, and I drop the smug smirk from my face when he squeezes one of my knees between his. At least no one can _see_ this.

“I take back what I said about you being a good boy,” he smiles, seemingly pleased despite everything.

“You started it,” I grunt.

“Well played, all the same,” and he gives me that look again, the fascinated and _proud_ stare like he really is a parent. “You knew what I was playing at, didn’t you?”

“Mm,” I nod.

“Impressive. You’re very cool with these things, aren’t you?”

Cool. Sure. Because I’m not just exploding inside from every little touch and suggestive whisper.

I just shrug.

We eat quietly and I suddenly realise that I really was hungry. When we’re just sipping the last of our drinks, he drops his hand under the table to squeeze my knee. It’s suggestive and apologetic at the same time, just another one of those little meaningful touches he keeps laying on, and I’m probably starting to rely on them a little too much. It does something inside me, not as sexy as he’s probably intending, but I like them, and I’m craving more of them.

“She really did think you were my Dad, you know,” I mutter.

“We do look a little similar.”

He’s right, even though his eyes are a few shades lighter, it’s not a ridiculous conclusion to come to, but that brings me onto another question I’ve been milling over…

“You don’t have any _actual_ kids, do you?” I ask quietly.

He strokes a circle with his thumb on my knee. “No. And I don’t have, uh, anyone _else_ , if you were going to ask that,” he replies after taking a second to gather some confidence. “How about you?”

I narrow my eyes. “I’m not like that.”

He smiles, as if he’s not just offended me, “Good. I’d be disappointed if you were.”

As if I were what? If was cheating with him, or if I was with someone? I narrow my eyes further but he just continues stroking my knee. Is he hinting he wants… _no. Don’t be an idiot, Haru_. As if.

“Satisfied?” he asks. I nod and he slides out, coming beside me while I slip my jacket on.

He runs an affectionate hand through my hair, sort of absentmindedly, and I see the realisation fall onto his face when he catches himself, hand pausing as it’s pushing back my fringe. He freezes, stock still for a moment while I stare at him, waiting to see if he retracts or finishes the stroke.

He chooses neither, ruffling my hair up instead and turning away, but the tips of his ears are tinged pink.

No. No it’s _not_ cute. He’s thirty-fucking-seven. He’s like the opposite of cute. But I don’t think anyone would argue with just how _hot_ he is…

“Coming?” he interrupts my train of thought, glancing back over his shoulder, composure completely regained.

It’s my turn to fluster a bit, almost tripping over my own feet as I get out of my seat and join him in walking out. Our hands brush just a little in the narrow doorway. Accidental on my part, but I’m not so sure about him, especially when he leans over me and almost sucks on my ear with how closely he comes to whisper to me.

“Shall we continue?”

 _Absolutely_.

I shrug.

Those fruity smoothies come into their own when we fill each other’s throats later on.

 

“You don’t have a curfew I need to worry about, do you?” he coos into my hair when we’re lying on his bed, arms draped over each other. I frown at him, but he just bursts into soft laughter. “Kidding, Haru. But I should probably get you home soon.”

I nod, shuffling in closer in a weak attempt at defiance. He slides his other arm around me and rolls my head onto his chest, kissing my temple. We lay just for a moment, until we shuffle simultaneously, me nuzzling in and entwining our legs, and him reaching for the TV controls.

We’re not going anywhere _too_ soon, apparently.

“What are you thinking about?” he asks after a long period of quiet.

“Nothing,” I answer honestly. “Just…” I twitch my arm around his waist. _Just enjoying you_.

He presses another kiss into my hair and sits us both up, rubbing my back as I grumble.

“Home time,” he declares, with a bit of resentment.

At the last junction before my house, we’re forced to stop and wait while a funeral procession rolls past, and Sousuke sighs a bit wistfully as the hearse car drives by.

“Night funeral… that’s interesting,” he smiles.

“ _Orrr_ transporting a vampire,” I mumble idly, and then feel his gaze burn into me. “Night funeral, don’t be _silly_.”

“ _Haru_ ,” he scolds, exasperated. “Be _have_.”

“Sorry…”

He pats my leg, sliding his hand up and down. “Think I could go with that, though. It’s cool. Peaceful,” he continues.

“I suppose it can be arranged,” I shrug.

“ _Haru!_ ” he rounds on me again, “Don’t tell me you’re just in this for a slice of my will?”

All I can muster is a shrug and silently turn to the window.

He chuckles as we drive on, and I give out the basic directions to my house. There are lights on inside. Sousuke frowns.

“You live with someone?” he asks.

“It’s my parents’ house… they usually work away. Must have come back for the weekend,” I suggest, even though I have a sneaking suspicion of who might be in there, and it’s _not_ my parents.

Sousuke frowns further. “They wouldn’t have texted you?”

“Uh…” I reach into my pocket for my phone. “It’s dead,” I shrug.

“No kisses on the doorstep then,” he teases.

“Kisses in the car are alright though,” I say, turning to him.

He agrees, because the next second his tongue is in my mouth, kissing and licking and getting his fill of a final taste while I wonder just _what_ I’m going to say when I get inside.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asks when we part.

“Maybe,” I say simply, and take that as my cue to get out.

He makes the good bye easy, just a smile and a two-fingered wave as he pulls away.

Time to face the music…

Or more accurately, the _Makoto._

 

It’s as expected, being instantly pulled into a bear hug as soon as I step in the door, but oddly enough, he doesn’t look as panic as expected.

“You didn’t have to wait for me,” I tell him, pushing past dismissively to set my things in the lounge.

He smiles softly, because that’s just what he does. “I wanted to, you’ve been so stressed with that work thing all week, and then your gala…”

“How did you know I did the gala?” I ask immediately. The last conversation we’d had on it was him encouraging me to pull out, because of how exhausted I was. _Prioritising_ , he’d called it.

“I called your coach when you didn’t answer your phone,” he admits.

Something must show on my face, or maybe it doesn’t, it’s hard to tell with Makoto, he’s always had this way of knowing. But he continues.

“He told me you were staying over with one of the swim guys because you’d been out after your win,” he says calmly.

And now I owe Rin a piece of my soul, isn’t that just _wonderful_.

“Uh, yeah,” I agree, because it’s not like I’m going to admit what I’ve _actually_ been up to.

“Have you had dinner? Do you want me to run you a bath?” he asks, slipping into his mothering mode.

I shake my head. Sousuke’s been feeding me up on fruit all evening, and we’d taken _another_ shower together before I left.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it, shall I?” he smiles, aiming for the door.

“Wait –”

“Hmm, Haru-chan?” he stops, turning to me with that cocked head and sappy smile.

“Sorry if I made you worry…” I whisper.

“No need, Haru. You know I’m happy as long as you are.”

He wouldn’t be saying that if he knew the truth, I assure you.

 

It’s odd, getting to sleep all by myself, even though it’s only been two nights with Sousuke. His bed is larger, softer, and there’s this embracing feeling of _comfort_ that had me all wrapped up within his arms. It’s a rough night, but I settle into my morning routine of bath, mackerel and running to the aquatic centre as best I can.

At least the ache has gone from my ass.

Rin sports a fine smirk all through the brief morning training session and I, brave little soul that I am, avoid all forms of conversation and make a exist so prompt I’m even early for work. Well wouldn’t a certain someone just be proud.

I consider visiting, but then decide I’m _not_ a hopeless fanboy and can absolutely last more than twelve hours without those perfect turquoise eyes smiling down on me. Sousuke’s going to have to make the first move regarding that, I decide.

The agent I’m directed to work with is a man I’ve worked with before, Shigino Kisumi. He’s long and lean and topped with a ridiculous bush of pink hair. I’d estimate his age to be somewhere in the early thirties, but I suspect he might be a little older, closer to Sousuke’s age.

Speaking of whom…

“Sooo,” Shigino grins and slides a file my way, “How’d it go being Yamazaki’s little rent boy last week?”

I stare at him, and he just melts into a snigger.

“ _Sorry_ , Haruka. You know I’m just kidding. But don’t tell me you didn’t realise what a _pervert_ he can be. Especially with a tight little ass like yours.”

I wonder if he even realises that he’s making himself into a pervert as well, saying things like that, but this it’s something I’ve unfortunately grown to expect from this guy. But…

I clear my throat. “Um… he was fine,” I say, looking distantly at the window.

“If you say so, kiddo,” and he brushes his hand down my arm in what he’s probably trying to pull off as _comforting_. In reality it’s just plain _creepy._ “You know you can always come and talk to me, as a _friend_ ,” he draws out the word, a lilt in his voice, “if you want some… _mature_ advice.”

Thanks, but no thanks.

Although there’s someone else who might be able to shed a little insight…

 

“Rin,” I approach cautiously after training.

“Hmm?” he turns, eyebrows raised and that smug smirk still plastered all over him. Oh _god_ this was a bad idea…

“I have a question…” and the way his eyebrows waggle means he’s already guessed the direction this is going, and I decide there’s no point making small talk. “Yamazaki… does he do this a lot?”

“Whatever do you mean, Haru?” he asks, in a smarmy, highly amused tone.

“ _This_ ,” I repeat.

“And what’s _this_ , Haru?” he continues to grin.

“You _know_ what,” I glare, not playing his games, and he descends into a fit of giggles.

“Sorry, _sorry_ ,” he begs over his laughter. “Your _face_ , Haru. I don’t mean to tease.”

I look at him, long and silent, because he absolutely does.

He gives in, “No, he doesn’t. But you should talk to him yourself. Or has something happened?”

“Um…” uttering Shigino’s words probably wouldn’t be in my best interests, nor Sousuke’s, to be honest. “I don’t want to seem…”

“Keen?” he finishes for me. “Just take him coffee or something.”

 

Coffee, or something, that something being a bag of grapes I’ve picked up in the little mart at the station and tucked into my satchel. Shigino doesn’t come in until nine, so I have time to kill. I make a cup of tea for myself and Sousuke’s coffee just to his liking, and head for his office, knocking tentatively and precariously balancing the mugs in one hand.

“What _now?_ ” comes the rough, grumpy call from inside, and I push in just enough to catch a glimpse. “Oh, Nanase…” his face softens. “Hi.”

“Got you coffee…” I explain, stepping in and letting the door slip shut.

“Well aren’t you just the sweetest thing?” not the word I’d use. “Sorry, bit stressed. Come sit.”

I slip down into my seat on the chaise, and he looks put out for a minute before getting out of his chair to join me, squeezing my thigh in thanks when he takes his mug.

“I, uh, got grapes too.”

“ _Did_ you now,” he grins, and opens his mouth expectantly.

Acting exasperated, I feed him one.

“Mm, what a way to brighten my morning. Coffee, grapes, and a kiss from you.”

I know when to take cues, and turn towards him, making him make up the distance to softly kiss my lips and slide his arms around my waist, rubbing gently on my back. He pulls away quite quickly and rests our foreheads together.

“Can’t get too carried away,” he warns, and puts an inch of space between us.

“What’s got you so grumpy?” I ask.

He chuckles and squeezes my leg again, “ _Someone_ put my standards up a bit much,” he explains. “The artist for this project is… well. _Abstract_.”

“Since when were you a connoisseur?” I scoff.

“Probably since I met you. How’re you liking your partner this week?”

Well, enough that _liking_ doesn’t even come into it. He must read it in my frown.

“Not your type?”

“Bit of a pervert,” I grumble, which, considering my apparent _infatuation_ with Sousuke, actually _does_ make him my ‘type’, but…

“Don’t tell me it’s Shigino?”

“How did you _know?_ ” I ask, a bit amazed, because _seriously._

He chuckles, squeezing again, and I get the impression he’s got a bit of a thing for my legs, “Known him a while… do you want me to have words?”

I shake my head, feeling a bit patronised, but it’s a nice gesture all the same. “Protective…” I mumble.

“Just a bit,” he agrees, and it fills me with something a little bit warm.

I turn my head to him, and he’s _right there_ to plant a little kiss on my nose. “Well, I guess we both have things to do… I’m heading out at lunch today, but I thought maybe we could…?” he trails off, another one of those times where he makes me work it out for myself, always testing.

“Whatever,” I shrug.

However, he’s not the only one to invite me out to lunch.

 

“If we can get this wrapped up this morning, I’ll treat you to lunch,” Shigino beams at me, hovering over my shoulder, face too close to mine and breath irritating my ear.

Needless to say, I’m taking my sweet-ass time finishing up.

I duck out of his office a few minutes before lunch and head down two flights of stairs to get to Sousuke’s office. Knocking on the door, I push in, and immediately regret ever setting foot in this room.

Sousuke pushes a hand back through the guy’s silver hair, a little scrawny thing with big, sappy blue eyes and sighs. The creek of the door makes both their heads snap to mine.

“Haru,” Sousuke almost chokes on my name, scooting away from the young artist immediately. “Nanase,” he corrects himself. “Just give me a minute, okay?”

No, _not okay_. He’s obviously already a bit _busy_ with this other kid, and I realise I’m an _idiot_ for thinking he’d really want to spend time with me.

Silently, I turn from the door, hiding my upset, and leave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> word count got out of control again and I didn't manage to get everything into this that I wanted before I felt like this chapter came to it's natural end, so my original intention for 15000 words and 3 chapters might have just shat itself out of it's own ass... we'll see.
> 
> daxii and daxii-rants on tumblr. come love me.


	3. Chapter 3

Somehow, Sousuke finds me in the bathroom on his floor, where I’m standing by the sinks watching the water run. Probably a bit of an obvious hiding place, to be honest, but I hadn’t expected him to come after me. He stands back and to the side, where I can just about see him in my peripheral vision in the mirror, with his arms folded and a stern frown on his face.

I look down at the water, and hear him deflate.

“Haruka,” he throws out my full name in the lowest, hardest voice I’ve heard in my entire life, but then he catches himself and his face softens in the mirror, and he takes a step closer. “I’m too old to be dealing with jealous little boys.”

And that’s what this is, isn’t it. I’m _jealous_ because he’s been touching that other kid in the same way he touched me. Shigino was right. Shigino’s a knob, but he was right. This is the part where he swoops in and tells me to get over myself, it was just a fling, and calls me out on being such an _idiot_.

He moves closer again, tiptoeing towards me the same way he’s tiptoeing towards my inevitable heartbreak. _Heartbreak?_ I’m not… 

He leans back on the sinks, spreading his arms out and holding onto the porcelain for balance as he sinks so we’re the same height. One arm leans in front of me, like a big barrier between myself and the water. He’s so _close_ , his thick shoulder just inches in front of mine.

“However,” he continues, and this is already veering off the course I thought it was going to take. That arm suddenly means a lot more. If I lean into it, he’ll probably wrap it around me, bring me all close to his chest and let me stick my face in his neck and let me cry like he probably thinks I’m going to.

I’m not going to.

“I can’t say I’m not a bit flattered.”

What? “What?”

He lets out a light little chuckle. “A little jealousy is always healthy,” he explains, tone a bit patronising, like he knows something I don’t.

Which at this point, he probably does.

“Am I allowed to explain what you think you saw?”

I suppose. I blink once and look up at the mirror to stare at the back of his head.

“I yelled at him, and he was upset, so I had to fix it. I don’t treat…” he cuts himself off and clicks his tongue as he tries to rephrase. “You’re an exception, Haru.”

That’s not what Shigino said. But apparently Sousuke has an answer for that too.

“Kisumi’s an asshole. I know _I’m_ an asshole, but,” he brings his hand up to touch my chin, turning me towards him, “I’m _your_ asshole.”

Pretty sure he’s got that the wrong way around, but whatever.

“Rin texted me this morning, you know, said you were a little off, feeling insecure… don’t be mad at him. He just doesn’t want us to hurt each other… and Kisumi, well. He’s harmless.”

He strokes along my jaw and to the back of my neck, drawing little circles and tussling the hair there. That other arm is still in front of me, waiting for me to accept it.

“Say something?” he asks, sounding worried.

“Sorry,” I mumble. “I have no right to be jealous…” because I don’t, it’s not like we’re _boyfriends_ or anything. We just had sex.

And spent a glorious weekend basking in coital afterglow.

But it was just sex.

He cocks his head and almost starts to frown, but then relaxes into a smile. “I suppose that’s up for you to decide,” he says, calm as anything. “Come here?” he coaxes, and that arm in front of me lifts off the sink and opens out to me.

I’d be a bit of an idiot not to step into it, and the second I lean forwards he’s got me all bundled in, sliding our chins onto each other’s shoulders and dappling kisses all over my neck, slow and tender, like he’s _relieved_. I’m surprised the sinks are even managing to take our combined weight, with me pressed entirely into his protective, embracing frame.

“You know, I don’t appreciate being stood up for a lunch date,” he snarls into my neck, but there’s a sing song tone to it.

“Not exactly hungry anymore…” I grumble.

“Well, I suppose that’s fair enough,” he kisses closer to my mouth, coming to my cheek and chin now. “But I still have some of those grapes you bought me yesterday,” and now he’s brushing our noses together, and I can taste his words on my lips. It’s my job to lean into the kiss again. Another of his little things where he leaves it up to me to make a move, like he expects me to back away…

Obviously I’m not the only insecure one.

He grunts into the kiss, the joy obvious and he moves slow against my lips, savouring every pass of my tongue against his, but in the end he pulls away before I’m ready, and I end up falling further into him. He laughs and stands me up, looking silently towards the door, trying to tell me to _behave_ without saying it aloud.

We’re still in the work’s bathroom, after all.

“But,” he continues, as if he’s not just broken off with a minute of heavy kissing. “I think for being such a _naughty_ boy,” he pauses for effect, _what_ effect, I’m not quite sure, “you should let me take you out to dinner instead.”

It’s his money, I guess, shrugging. “Like a date?” I ask, completely unable to contain such a _ridiculous_ question because _as **if**_ –

He chuckles against my shoulder, “If you’d like,” he says, pointlessly, because that really doesn’t clear _anything_ up.

“As long as there’s mackerel,” I mutter, and apparently that’s just _hilarious_ to Sousuke, and earns me another wet kiss and a spank on the ass.

“Come on, cheeky. And don’t you worry your pretty little head about Nitori. Not my type, _believe_ me,” he rolls his eyes. “Now, how about those grapes, hmm?”

 

Sousuke splays himself out on his chaise. The door is locked and the blinds on the little window in the door are drawn. He opens his arms out, and there’s really only one place to go. I grab the bag of grapes from his desk – apparently he hadn’t wanted to share with Nitori, and I probably shouldn’t be so pleased about that – and sidle on over.

If there wasn’t such an oddly heavy atmosphere, I might bully him a bit. Maybe sit on the desk and make him come to me instead of being so spoiled and waiting on the lounge, or sit on his feet and find out if he’s ticklish. But as it stands, there’s a bubble of trust that needs to be refilled. He trusts me to crawl up onto his chest, and I trust him to not yelp too loudly when I accidentally knee him in the crotch.

Sorry, Sousuke.

“Hi,” he smiles softly as I’m hovering over his face to settle.

I give him a quick kiss on the lips as I shuffle down, and he seems pleasantly surprised enough that I wonder if that was even the right move.

“Hello,” I mumble into his collar.

“Comfy?” he asks.

“Mm.”

It’s so intimate, this straight up _cuddling_ , it’s too much for what we are. These light little kisses he’s dotting along my hairline as his big, warm hands untuck my shirt from my pants and slide under to run up and down my back. I know the whole thing is gearing up so he can snog me senseless and get whatever pleasure he gets from feeding me grapes, but for now, I could probably fall asleep.

And he probably wouldn’t say a word about it.

But when his little chuckle starts to rumble up, that affectionate, amused one that seems to leak uncontrollably from his throat whenever he decides I’m the most endearing thing he’s ever seen, I grab a grape to silence him. He somehow manages to chew and swallow while still giggling a little, and despite the intimacy, despite just how _nice_ this is to just be held, all I can do is glare at him.

And that just makes him laugh _more_.

“What?” I demand, getting my own grape and finding my own amusement with how offended he looks I don’t feed him another one too.

“You’re just so…” he stops, and gets a prod in the chest from me when he just looks up with his big, soft eyes. “Nothing…” he says sweetly, closing his eyes.

Probably “ _cute_ ” or something else ridiculous. I lay on my side a little, head tucked under his chin, and we eat silently for a while, just occasionally bringing a grape up to the other’s lips. When Sousuke’s done, he comes to kiss on my hair and stroke his fingers through, hugging my shoulders tight.

“I really am sorry, Haru…” he mumbles. “You must have felt like shit, seeing that…”

Ah. So _that’s_ why he’s being so affectionate and cuddling the crap out of me. It’s _guilt_.

I shrug in his arms. “I shouldn’t be jealous,” I grunt, mostly feeling like I’m saying that to myself.

“I don’t mean that. I mean… seeing me apparently going for him in just the same way I went for you, not even a week later. You must have felt like just a notch on the bedpost. You’re _not_.”

I hum against him in acknowledgement. He’s right… he’s _too_ right. He’s old enough that he’s probably suffered at least _one_ similar heartbreak. I hug him tighter, trying to understand.

“Kiss me,” I say, shuffling up, making it so he doesn’t really have a choice.

Not that he finds it a difficult decision, instantly taking my chin under his finger and tenderly licking along my lips to slick them up, and then moving us together so light and languid it’s almost chaste. There’s a word for this. I don’t know what it is, but there’s a _word_. He even makes a little _mwah_ noise when he pulls away.

“You should really get back upstairs, you know. Kisumi’s _bound_ to send out a search party,” Sousuke says, all the while brushing his nose against my cheek. “And Nitori needs to come off his lunch break too…”

I make no attempt to move other than nudging back in for another kiss, getting some tongue in this time.

“What _is_ your “type” then?” I ask, more out of genuine curiosity than jealousy at this point.

“Trying to fit the bill?” he answers with another question, teasingly sliding his hands down to my ass. “You are a _very_ interesting young man.”

Apparently that’s all the answer I’m getting for now, but I do get a sweet kiss to the temple by the door.

“I’m sorry for… you know,” I mutter.

He shakes his head and cups my cheek, bringing me in to kiss my forehead again, and then his tilts his head to lay it over mine. “No need. I thought you were very dignified,” yeah, because he thought I was going to _cry_ , “And I will pick you up a six.”

 

Shigino eyes me suspiciously when I come back to the office, his eyes sparkling beneath his raised eyebrows as he looks me over, obviously looking for significant limps or wet patches. My lips are a bit red and puffy, but I could probably excuse that by saying I had something–

Never mind. I don’t even want to _imagine_ the face he’d pull if I said I had something _salty_.

“Nice l _uuu_ nch?” he sings, swaggering over to where I’ve sat at the small extra desk he has, facing the window.

I nod, deciding that silence is in everyone’s best interests, while he puts his hands on the back of my chair and I can see him grinning in the reflection of the window. He’s not _lecherous_ as such, just _annoying_. He’s not even that unpleasant when he’s not talking about my backside. At least there’s very little work to do, and Shigino bats his eyelids at the boss until he lets us leave early, but I get called to the main office before I can escape.

That’s never a good thing.

Sousuke is already in the office, looking pissy, and Ryugazaki scowls in his direction and – _shit_.

We’ve been found out.

Sousuke sends me a soft smile and twitches his hand in my direction, a summons to come closer? Might as well, seeing as we’re both going down together. He strokes a caring hand down my back, disguised as a greeting, but so much more.

“Gentlemen,” Rygazaki announces, holding out two perfectly presented manila envelopes, one in each hand.

Sousuke approaches first and takes both, passing the one with my name on to me. He smiles up at me, soft, encouraging _, everything’s going to be alright_. At least he’s making some _effort_ to soften the blow. It’s probably obvious on my face at this point that I am very much _not_ happy with – oh.

 _Hello_.

Well isn’t that a handsome set of digits.

I blink up at Sousuke, confused. This isn’t dismissal…

This is a _cheque_.

“Commission, for last week,” Sousuke beams.

“I told you it was worth it,” Ryugazaki beams, and it must be evident that my heart has sort of stopped a little with the way both he and Sousuke look at me with concern.

Sousuke nudges me in the shoulder with a light fist, “Good job, kid, you earned that,” he smiles sincerely.

They’re both so oblivious to my actual distress it’s not even funny, but I suppose that’s for the best. I play on the act of being shocked by the four digit figure and the boss smiles and holds the door open for us to leave. Sousuke grabs my wrist.

“Rei,” he starts, and I feel him tense as he appears to gather some nerve. “I’d like to work with Nanase again.”

Ryugazaki turns, slowly, and clocks me with a hard look, and it’s all I can do to try and keep my face impassive, even as Sousuke shrugs his arm around my shoulders in what _hopefully_ appears to be a casual manner. He’s probably giving me a moment to refuse. I say nothing.

“Well… that can probably be arranged. You have produced some _beautiful_ pieces, after all.”

Sousuke smiles, pleased, and Ryugazaki nods and makes a _get out_ gesture to the door, and I’m nudged forwards by the arm sitting heavily around me.

It slides across and up my back when we hear the door click, and I receive a quick kiss just in front of my ear. “See you at six,” Sousuke says, stern, but it’s so flirty at the same time, and I’ve never seen him look so chuffed.

He walks off, sniggering, probably because my face is so red.

 

What are you supposed to _wear_ for a date? _Probably not jammers_ , a part of my brain grumbles. And that part’s probably right… I don’t even want to imagine what Sousuke would have said if he’d slid his hand down my pants at lunch to cop a feel of swimsuit rather than ass.

It’d probably serve him right though.

A shower is on the to-do list first though, washing away the remnants of Kisumi’s over-powering aftershave from where he’s been stood too-close for most of the day. I make good work of cleaning all the important bits, hoping the cherry scent of shower gel isn’t _too_ off putting for Sousuke… but he’d probably just laugh at me anyway.

I end up with a striped polo and some tan pants rolled up at the ankle. I can’t imagine they’ll be staying on long after dinner anyway… and that’s assuming “dinner” isn’t actually just a euphemism for filling me up with his cock.

It better hadn’t be, ‘cause I’m _starving_.

There’s a firm knocking at my door at precisely five past six.

“You’re late,” I scold as I open the door.

Sousuke grins down at me, still taller even though I’m raised up by the step of the front door, and leans down to lightly kiss my lips.

“And you look adorable.”

He still looks like he’s dressed for work, smart in a buttoned shirt and pants, but he suits the all black ensemble well. He grins even wider, looking a little smug at obviously catching me eyeing him up.

“Like what you see?” he asks, reaching out to slide a hand down my waist.

I don’t justify his vanity with a verbal response, only stepping up on my tiptoes to give him a chastising kiss to the nose. He leads us to his car, going as far as to hold the door for me, but breaks his charade of chivalry by patting my butt twice as I move past him.

“Hope you don’t mind a ride, it’s hard to find a decent place that does mackerel,” he mumbles as he sits next to me.

I could argue that I could rustle us up something perfectly acceptable if we’re not just going to skip all the fluff and get to the part where we’re shirtless.

But it _is_ a real date? My stomach takes a tumble, suddenly filling with butterflies. Sousuke’s hand slides down my leg before he shifts it to take the handbrake off and get into gear, but between changes he moves it back to play with the crease in the muscle on the top of the inside of my thigh. If he’s not careful I’m going to –

“Oh, _Haru_ ,” he teases, brushing a knuckle against my bulge.

– …yeah, that.

“Don’t,” I grumble, shifting in my seat.

He slides his hand down, closer to my knee, but grins all the while, like he’s desperately happy with how my body responds without my consent just at his touch.

“I’m flattered,” he says, briefly, and gives my knee a squeeze before letting me go completely.

The drive is pleasant, winding just into the country side with all the pretty little villages, and the view is lovely with the sun just beginning its descent. It’s pretty quiet, Sousuke just humming along to the radio he has on low, occasionally shooting me a smile I catch out of the corner of my eye. While we’re slowly winding through the carpark, his hand comes back to my leg, just resting, like _“I’m here_ ”.

 

“May I?” Sousuke asks, meeting me at my side of the car and holding out his elbow. I stare at it for a moment until his face falls into a smirk and he steps in closer, lips coming against my ear. “Because I’m not your Dad, remember?” and he sets his hand on my waist to turn me into him for a kiss, just chaste, and I suppose you could even call it _romantic_ with how softly he smiles against my lips.

In the end, I don’t take his arm, mostly because I’m just not sure what to do with it. Sousuke doesn’t seem to mind though, just gives me a loose little side-hug as we get to the door. He’s treating me like I’m nervous. Am I supposed to be nervous? We’re seated at a table for four by a wide eyed woman in her late twenties who looks like she’s concentrating more on figuring out if she should light the candle in the middle of the table than on what Sousuke is ordering us to drink.

“And… do you want water, Haru?” Sousuke breaks off.

I nod automatically. Because _water_.

He tuts at the unlit candle and moves it to the windowsill next to where we’re sat when the waitress has left, but then looks up, a small smile developing on his face and sighs.

“I suppose I don’t need a candle to make this a nice night for you.”

“It’s… not just out of guilt, this, is it?” I ask carefully.

He shakes his head, soft turquoise eyes filled with something I don’t have a name for, “I wanted to take you out _anyway_ , Haru.”

“Why?”

“To spend some time with you, with _just_ you. No work or sex being the focal point. Just _you_.”

…So we’re not having sex after this? It must show in my expression, even though I probably look more confused than anything else at the moment, because Sousuke immediately breaks into a smirk, but doesn’t comment. We both turn all our attention to the menu, but after a few seconds, I can feel him looking at me and raise an eyebrow.

“You’ve… not done this before, have you?” he says, more an observation than a question because he’s _right_.

“Not like this,” I answer simply, and look around the fancy restaurant, all dark wood and mood-lit with low burning bulbs in high chandeliers.

“Bit out of reach of college boys?” he smirks, and then suddenly gets out of his seat and comes to take the one next to me. “Let me help, little one,” he coos and wraps his arm around my shoulders, but it’s far more flirty than patronising, and I’m far too covered in him to even care about the public display. “Your precious mackerel’s just here,” he points.

After a rub of my shoulder, he slackens his arm and just leaves it resting on the back of my chair. It could probably be called casual. After all, does Sousuke really want people thinking that we’re anything _serious_ , even if this is a “date”? Probably not, I conclude. Not that that stops Sousuke from shooting the flustering waitress a smug look when she brings over our jug of water and the bottle of whatever Sousuke’s ordered.

“Two glasses?” she asks, looking at me pointedly.

“Of course,” Sousuke says before I can jump in with anything that makes him look like a paedophile. “It’s not strong,” he explains when she’s left with our food orders. “And I don’t believe for one second that you can be part of Rin’s team and never have been drunk before.”

He does have a point, I suppose, even if the resulting hangovers and the consequential fuss and nagging from Makoto had made me reluctant to keep attending his post-win parties.

“So, tell me more about you,” he says, resting his chin on his free hand and looking at me. He already knows I like swimming, art and mackerel. I’m not sure there’s a whole lot else _to tell_. “Like,” he continues, “your friends, maybe?”

“Makoto,” I say on instinct.

He smiles, “Best friend?” all I can do is nod. “Nothing… more?”

“I told you I’m not like that,” I grunt. “And he’s straight,” I tack on, grumbling even more.

“But you wish there could be?” he adds, calm as anything, completely accepting.

I shrug. “High school crush.”

“Cute,” he tilts his head, so it just rests lightly against mine. “I couldn’t imagine you with a kid your own age… you’re too mature. You think like you’re already thirty.”

I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but with his fascinated little smile I decide not to be offended.

“For the best anyway, believe me…” he trails off. I nudge his knee with mine. “When we were younger… a _lot_ younger, Rin and I tried a thing… took us ages to become friends again.”

Our food arrives and we chat idly, all those little friendly anecdotes you share between, well, _friends_. I learn how he and Rin went to the same elementary school and then met up again in their third year of high school, sharing a room at their specialist swimming academy.

“Try some?” he offers me a forkful of his spicy beef thing, directing it to my mouth.

“It’s good,” I mumble, swallowing, “here?” I hold out my own fork, with mackerel, rice and some Mediterranean vegetables.

“Hmm, not as plain as I expected. Do you like it?”

I nod, and he runs a finger down my cheek. “Maybe you’ll let me bring you here again sometime?”

“Maybe,” I say quietly, a bit lost in his gaze.

“Can I kiss you, Haru?”

I don’t see why not. It’s not like anyone here knows us. “You’ve never asked before,” I murmur, inching closer to grant my permission.

“I don’t want to embarrass you.”

“You don’t.”

He closes the gap just for a second, just a soft little kiss, just a lick against my lips and he pulls back with a happy sigh.

“Would you like dessert?” he veers off, leaning back all content, stroking my leg under the table.

“I actually had something else in mind for dessert.”

His eyes glint, catching on immediately. “Well, I can hardly deny you anything on our date night, can I? Whatever you want, baby.”

Sousuke grins all the way through paying the bill and putting the cap on our bottle of wine. I imagine the last half of that is going to feature quite heavily in the remainder of our evening.

 

We pull up at my house both with grins of anticipation and Sousuke’s hands find the back of my hips while I’m still fiddling with the lock to my door. As soon as we’re inside, he brings his arms around my thighs to pick me up, pressing me against the back of the door and kissing me heavily, no nerves or reservations.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he huffs against my mouth between flicks of his tongue.

“Upstairs,” I answer, uselessly, and he gives me an appropriately exasperated eye-roll.

I direct him, all the while being shifted onto his hip for him to hold me effortlessly, this dominating trait he seems to revel in, even though he’s so gentle with it. My queen size is considerably smaller than the king he has, but I suppose we don’t need much horizontal space to do what we’re going to do.

He lays me on my back, coming over me instantly to continue kissing, making a mess of my face with how wet his kisses are. He takes it up a notch with the roughness of his teeth on my lips and pulls my shirt up, parting so he can get it over my head.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he hisses, mostly to himself as he rakes his hands down my chest, taking a nipple in each hand and rolling it between his fingers.

I grunt, it tickles just a bit.

“Are you sensitive?” he questions, not giving me a chance to answer before he latches on with his mouth, flicking his tongue over the tiny bud until it’s rock hard in his mouth. Any words I had are replaced by a groan. “Apparently so,” he teases, and lets me go to shed his own shirt and start working on my pants.

“You too,” I manage to grunt, pawing uselessly at his waist band, and he smiles down all endeared and stands up on the bed, making a little show of stripping them off.

He’s not shy at all, not that he has any reason to be, his built muscles rippling as he comes to kneel between my legs, intent on getting my cock in his mouth. He spreads my legs wide, rolling me back a little on my spine so he can have easier access.

A teasing, testing lick across my asshole is just a taster for what he has planned, and he follows up by kissing it, naturally deepening by pushing his tongue in.

“Cherry?” he asks, pulling back.

I had been _very_ thorough in my anticipation.

I decline to comment, giving him the lights of kicks to the ribs to prod him onwards.

“My little boy is _needy_ tonight,” he grins. “Tell me, Haru, have you missed me?”

I respond by bucking my hips up, an unmistakable hint, and he laughs and kisses my cock.

“Do you have lube, or do I just need to kiss you open?” he asks, running a gentle thumb up my shaft to keep me entertained while we get the technical shit over with.

“Top drawer.”

He rummages around in my socks and tosses a bottle on the bed and a foil square I forgot I had, even though I’d seen a few in his wallet anyway. I don’t want to admit how _relieved_ I am that he’s taking us all the way. I suddenly feel so empty, waiting for him to fill me up. It’ll hurt, but it’s so _satisfying_.

But then there’s a _click_.

Followed by a _buzz_.

 _Oh shit_.

“Oh _Haru_ ,” Sousuke sings, and I can just hear the amusement. “Aren’t _you_ a naughty little thing?”

He leans over me, hi face filling my eyes, and brings the long, slim vibrator into my vision.

“Just what do you get up to with _this_ , hmm?”

“Exactly what you think,” I bite, but that just makes him grin even wider and take me into another filthy kiss.

He shuffles back, settling between my knees again, but then seems to rethink and pats my hip softly. “Could you get on your knees for me?”

I don’t see why not.

“ _Beautiful,_ ” he moans and kisses my hole again, getting it all slippery with his probing, dancing tongue. He’s already opened me up enough that slipping in a single finger would be completely unfulfilling, but he just keeps on licking anyway.

His fingers are occupied slicking up the pliable silicone of my vibrator, anyway.

He runs it along my cock first, the vibrations on the lowest setting to just tickle the underside of my head and then guides it downwards, dragging it along my perineum and finally pulls his face away from my hole, and I grunt into the pillow I’ve hidden in at the loss, but he quickly tries to soothe with a few quick kisses to my ass cheeks. The tip of the vibrator probes my hole, testing, and then he pushes it in.

“You don’t know _how_ hot this looks right now, baby,” Sousuke moans from behind me, reaching around to hold my cock.

Having not been one to witness anything purple and cylindrical slide in and out of another male’s raised asshole, no, I _don’t_ know how it looks.

But I do know it’s not enough.

“Hurry up,” I demand.

Sousuke bursts into laughter.

“ _Stamina_ , baby. I missed you. Let me play with you,” like a child misses his favourite toy, I guess. Though I’m not going to argue that the attention isn’t nice.

He pumps the vibrator slowly, bringing up the speed every few minutes until when it’s on its highest setting he coaxes me onto my back again, arms wrapped around my thighs to angle my cock into his mouth.

I was probably already on the brink of cumming _without_ his amazing oral abilities. He know it, too, and clamps his lips down around my base and it’s all I can do to resist bucking into his face. It’s probably my worry about hurting him that brings me down more than his action.

His mouth pulls away with an apologetic kiss to my leaking head. “I’m going to buy you a cockring,” he declares. “Have you ever used one?”

Small talk? Really, Sousuke? I just shake my head, if he can even tell with how much the rest of my body is shaking.

“I have one of those disposable rubber ones in my wallet but…” he runs his hand up and down my cock. “Might not be your size.”

“Sou _suke_ ,” I half whine, half scold.

“ _Haru_ ,” he mocks, coming back up to lick at my nipples while one hand starts to swirl the vibrator inside me, using it to push my walls out, ready to take him. He looks up at me, and his resolve visibly crumbles. “That _face,_ baby,” he moans, torn.

Ah, that face. _The_ face. Years of practiced perfection poured into one single expression of _need_. It works on Sousuke just as well as it works on Makoto, apparently, only I’d never _dare_ pull it out on the latter for anything more than that last fillet of mackerel.

“You said you can’t deny me anything on our date night…” I increase the pout; his face hides in the crook of my neck.

“It’s such a shame you’re so irresistible… alright, fine. It’s not like you can’t cum twice anyway,” he resigns himself to his hardly unpleasant fate with a kiss to my neck. “Do you want to try a particular position?” he asks, with all the formality of a seasoned salesman.

“Just like this,” I say, breathlessly, and he comes up to smile down at me.

“Anything you want. Do you think you’re ready?”

I just nod, staring down at his massive, raging, untouched cock.

He gets himself protected and positioned between my legs, my back rolled just a little but he holds me so easily by the waist as he rubs his hot tip up and down my crack.

It burns. Oh _god_ does it burn. My every wince of pain is probably mirrored right in his face and I have to look away. He stills as soon as the head is in, and even now I can feel it pulsing. I risk a glance. Whatever he might like to say about his age taking its toll, I can see he’s having trouble holding back.

“You’re so _tight_ , Haru…” he gasps, panting.

The pain flutters into pleasure slowly, every nerve being tingled with the girth of his cock and I push up to meet him. He looks horrified for a second, but allows me to get him seated deep and then forces us to both adjust for half a minute. He probably needs to cool off too. But then, as he hunkers over me, balanced on his forearms, something decidedly sinister flashes across his face.

“Do you think you can cum without me touching you, Haru?” he asks, kissing my jaw.

 _Bastard_.

He chuckles lightly. “Well, I guess we’re going to find out, aren’t we?” he begins to pull back, slick sounds resonating between us with his painfully slow pace. “Let’s see if I remember where your special little spot is, hmm?”

As if he even has to try.

He tries to be slow, tries to make it last, but just five minutes of being pounded with the occasional and very deliberate probe to the prostate has me begging for him to touch me, or at least do _something_ to let me finish. He’s close too, I can tell with how his body shudders above me and how hard his eyes are squinted shut as he tries to revel in the pleasure for longer. There’s nothing but moans and slick slaps coming between us, and then he lifts my hips up _just_ slightly by rolling me back a little more and that’s it, I’m done.

It’s just so _deep_.

Gravity does its little trick and my seed rolls down my stomach all the way to my neck, where Sousuke is there and more than happy to commence clean up duty even as he still thrusts away, barely giving me a cautious glance for permission to finish himself off without letting me settle, but it’s ok, because I want to feel his cock ripple and pulse inside me with his release, which comes not more than a minute later.

He’s careful not to collapse on top of me, however much he might want to, and slows his thrusts to lazy ins and outs as he softens. I’m already hard again, but we both decide to ignore it. Rolling to his side and slipping out, he dumps the condom in the trash by my bed and picks up the box of tissues while he’s at it, mopping me up and finishing what he’d started with his tongue on my chest.

We’re silent for a few moments, both still panting, and it sort of amazes me how he manages to get through all those little things you never think about so seamlessly, barely breaking contact.

“Come here,” he doesn’t even ask, just says it as he pulls me close to him. It takes him a few more gasps to word his sentence. “Have you had a nice night?”

I’m glad it’s such an easy question, because I’m still not ready for words. I just nod against his chest and flop my arm over him, keeping him tight, because he’s _mine_ –

“So, I’m allowed to take you out again?” he asks, his tone wistful and pressing, like he’s –

 _Oh_.

“If I say yes, does that mean we’re… dating?” I let the question slip out. Sousuke’s pretty easy to talk to _anyway_ , but when we’re both fucked out, I feel like I can’t say anything wrong.

“Do you want to?” he fires off another question.

“Do _you_ want to?”

He chuckles softly. “It’s not about me,” he says, stroking my hair. I think it sort of is.

He has the slightest laughter lines this close, he really does look young for his age, and I… don’t actually care, I realise. He’s still Sousuke.

“Tell me what you want, Haru,” he whispers.

“You.”

He takes a small breath and lets it out as a sigh, bringing me even closer, all hesitancy gone where holding each other is involved. “Think about it, alright?”

“Not good at thinking,” I grumble.

“Then we’ll think together.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *fist pump* I love how this turned out.  
> I'm supposed to be all into fluffy MakoHaru/RinHaru, but these two just do something to me and I don't have any control. 
> 
> SUBSCRIBE TO THIS SERIES (if you like it, that is) BECAUSE I INTEND TO DO A THIRD PART
> 
> I'm an absolute whore for feeding off comments, guys, I'd love for you to tell me what you think. 
> 
> Come stalk me on tumblr, https://www.tumblr.com/blog/daxii 
> 
> So many thanks to the people who leave so much love and encouragement while I torture you with cliffhangers and feels.

**Author's Note:**

> Decided to post Part 2 as a multi chap because a) word count is getting out of hand, and b) I want feedback on Haru's characterisation before I get too far into this and then someone tells me he's completely off. 
> 
> Also, how much smut do people want? I can lean to either leaving bits to your imagination or spoiling you rotten. This is totally open to a vote. 
> 
> And guys! I made a tumblr like a second ago. I have no idea what I'm doing. Show me the ways of your people - daxii-rants@tumblr.whatever it is I forgot.


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